


On that Last Night of Existence

by cosmosclouds



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: A big depressing dork, First Time, M/M, Nico is a big dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmosclouds/pseuds/cosmosclouds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before the final battle with Gaea, and while everyone else is celebrating, Nico isn't really in the mood.  He's alone when Percy finds him, with some interesting news and the offer of company. (Implied past percabeth)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A guy should really be allowed to be Anti-Social sometimes.

The room was dim, humid.  With only a few lamps lighting desolate corners, the darkness seemed to drag against my skin; damp fingers scrabbling at my arms, my face, my legs.  I took another mouthful of the alcohol, feeling it burn down my throat, sizzling away unspoken words.  

Or some crap like that.

It was strong, a birthday present from my dad.  It had been an unusual gesture, set outside my door in the middle of the night.  He’d never mentioned it afterwards, but I guess I hadn’t really spoken to him.  It had been a week before the first move in this godly chess game.  I rested my head against the back of the chair, closing my eyes.  Tomorrow, it would all be over.  For better or for worse, at least it would be done.

 All in all, it probably wasn’t the best night to get wasted, seeing as I had a fucking huge battle I had to fight in tomorrow.  I would probably be expected to raise some dead people and kill a lot of monsters.  And you know, hey, I aim to please.  Yet there I sat, in a spare room next to the boilers, drinking some sort of whiskey that was probably a century or two old.  Alone.

 (The alone part was probably obvious, I don’t really have anybody to buddy up to.)

I was pretty sure they were having some sort of end of the world party, somewhere on board.  Where it was absolutely _essential_ to be wearing a big fake smile and anything but black.  Not really my forte.   So I sit, and I wait for the sun to come up on what may very possibly be the last night of my life. 

I took another swig.

“ _Nico_?”

I spluttered whisky everywhere, hacking and looking behind me with wild eyes, hand scrabbling for the sword that normally rested in my belt.  Percy stood there, apparently in shock, hands held up in surrender.  I gave another cough, pounding on my chest and turning back around, blushing furiously. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I wheezed, my hand now lying flat against my chest, as if trying to slow my freight train of a heart back down to a relatively healthy pace. He was _not_ who I wanted to see right now, gods, anyone else.  Well, almost anyone else.  Can’t a guy just get some peace and quiet?  He still hadn’t answered.  “Percy?”  I utterly refuse to look at him.  I won’t.

“Do you… drink?”

“That’s none of your business!” I snarled defensively, subconsciously cradling the flask to my chest.  I glared at him over my shoulder, hoping he’d get the message and just _go away._

I eventually sighed, finally looking away from his stricken face, because he obviously had not been expecting this, and the poor guy sort of looks like a kicked puppy.  A really hot kicked puppy.  “Yeah, sometimes.” 

There was a pause.

“Why?”

I snorted.  Gods almighty, it was like trying to explain bedtimes to a four year old.  “Because sometimes, Percy,” I said in a mocking voice that barely slurred, “sometimes, a person just needs… to relax a little, particularly when they might to be dying tomorrow.”  I waved my hand in the air vaguely, feeling cold liquid spill down the side of my wrist from the open flask.  I licked it up carelessly, angling my head to grab the drops slipping down my forearm.  I looked back at him, trying to see if he was satisfied with my answer.   His face was hidden in shadow, his shoulders stiff.

 I played with the container in my hand for a moment, flipping the lid up and down.  Up and down again.  Once more.  Then I took another drink because, fuck it all, Percy Jackson was in my room and it wasn’t in the way I wanted (never would be, unfortunately), and he was looking _really good_ and he should probably go. 

I should probably _tell_ him to go.

Like, any day now.

He was still silent, though he had moved closer, and was probably only three feet away from me now.  I chanced a glance at him, and the room remained deathly quiet.  Trust me, _I would know_. 

Then, in an act of utmost stupidity, I handed him the flask.  With surprisingly little hesitation on his part, he took it.  My now empty hands found the chairs arms and my fingers clawed into the material helplessly.  I could pretend I didn’t watch and want as his throat moved up and down and his fists clenched, but I like to believe we’re all friends here, so… yeah, I definitely fucking watched. 

He came away coughing, wiping away shine from his lips with the back of his hand.  I watched that too. 

“That’s pretty intense.”  He said in a deliciously rough voice, grimacing.  The weak lights barely illuminated his face, leaving him in hazy smears of bronze.  I coughed.  “Yeah, it is.” I released my death grip on the arms of the chair, flexing my hands experimentally.   Giving myself a reason to look away. 

Twelve inches.

Why was he getting this _close_?

“Why aren’t you at the party?”

I still would not look at him.

Another pause, heavier this time.

“Why aren’t you?”

I chuckled, unsure if he was deflecting or vaguely answering my question.  Fuck it, he was good.  

I ran a hand through my fringe; Hazel had cut it recently, so it wasn’t so far into my eyes.  I had enough problems, not being able to see the thing I was hacking at because I needed a trim shouldn’t be one of them.

‘ _I didn’t want to spend the last night of my life getting my heart stomped on.’_  The truth echoed in my thoughts, something I would _never_ actually say; lest it led to uncomfortable prodding and a broken… acquaintance.  

“I don’t have anybody there.” I said instead.  “What about you? You’ve got Annabeth to go and comfort.  Go be a good boyfriend.”  I looked at the floor and made a formless shooing gesture with my hand, noticing it took way more effort than it should have to try and send him away.   Apparently he did too.  His lips gave a small tilt, and he squatted down next to me. 

“Nah, I don’t think you really want me to go. “

“I never said that!” I snarled, hastily scooting as far away from him as the chair would allow.  He was with Annabeth.   He wasn’t… I could never have that.  He was not mine.  Definitely not mine. 

Not mine. 

He rested his elbows on the arm of the chair, chin resting in his hands. 

“So you _do_ want me to go.”  I grit my teeth, and his eyes glinted as he took another gulp of the whiskey, eyes locked on mine.  My gaze trailed leisurely around his mouth, slipping to the sharp edge of his jaw, down to those shoulders…

 My legs shook imperceptibly, and I looked down at my fists in my lap.  I swallowed heavily, and saw him shift in my periphery. 

“Do you want me to go, Nico?” He murmured uncertainly, and his breath brushed against my skin.  _Fuck._   I steeled myself for a moment, and then met his eyes again, hoping to look fiercely defiant.  He gave an innocent, if confused, smile.  It was pretty obvious I was going down

 

What was he _doing_ to me?

“Go get your girlfriend.” I said shakily, grabbing for the flask.  His obviously less inebriated self nimbly moved it out of my reach, grinning as I slumped back in my seat.  “Seriously,” I said, looking up at him balefully “go find Annabeth.  Have last night on earth sex.  Do fun things.  And when you leave, give me back my _fucking_ whiskey.” 

To give him credit, his mouth popped open, and his eyes widened.  He drew back a few inches, looking at me in disbelief.  Then he gave a whoop of laughter, loud enough to make me jump.  I stared at him, startled by his sudden outburst, he continued laughing.  “You—” he spluttered, “ _You_ _—_ I mean, you sound like a sixteen year old!”  He let loose another cackle.

 I scowled at him, making another grab for the container. 

“I broke up with her.” 

I froze, hand suspended midair, face about six inches away from his. 

” _What_?”

He moved in just slightly,—oh gods, _did he_? — it was almost imperceptible.  He could have just been swaying; he’d probably never even had anything to drink before. 

“I broke up with Annabeth.”

For a moment it was silent, any thoughts I considered forming into sentences got tangled on the way out of my throat. 

 “Why?”

He smiled, it was sad and quick.  “I still love her, obviously, but we both decided… We just couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t see her without being back there… In Tartarus.” He took a shaky breath.  “We couldn’t even be around each other, and usually that’s not the best in a relationship.”  His voice had gotten smaller as he’d gone on, until he was barely whispering. 

I had the overwhelming urge to wrap my arms around him, pull him close and just breathe him in.  Let him know he was not alone, that he was alive.

That he was loved, completely.

But that wasn’t really an option. 

“I’m sorry.” I muttered instead, running a hand through my hair.  “I guess I’ve been kind of an asshole about it.” His cheeks colored, and he stared at the pattern on the chair as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. 

“But, actually… that wasn’t the main reason I broke up with her.”  He seemed to hold his breath for a moment, picking at a stray thread.  What was he doing?

“There was someone else.”

The world went silent.

The waves outside halted, the Gods stopped bickering.  For just a moment, my heart finally stood still.

“Oh.”

 _Fuck_.  That was the most eloquent response I could come up with? _Oh?_!  Even as I internally raged, outwardly I had become a statue, barely breathing.  Someone probably could have smacked me upside the head with a frying pan, and I wouldn’t have even been able to blink.

 “I was _in love_  with _somebody else_.”

He said it slower this time, still plucking at that gods forsaken string that could just not seem to find any peace and quiet.

Well, shit. 

Thoughts whirled through my head, ‘ _who is it?_ ’.   Pretty sure Piper and Hazel were both taken,—I would’ve punched him in the face if he’d been in love with Hazel— but maybe Reyna? Gods, he finally breaks up with Annabeth, falls in love with someone else.  My dream come true.   Except for the part where it’s _me_ he falls in love with.

Just a small detail.

I swallowed, looking at the floor and giving a small chuckle that distantly resembled the sound of breaking glass.  I stood and walked toward the window, hands clasped behind my head.

I leaned my forehead against the freezing glass, breath fogging.  I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry.  I don’t think I could really bear to slip into the role of the friend who he talked to about his love life.  I wanted too badly to be _in_ it. 

“Who’s the lucky girl?”  I said, my voice thick.  My insides swayed and churned, my breathing was shaky.  ‘ _Stop being such an idiot.  Get yourself together.’_ A small voice in my head said sternly.  I felt ten years old again, feeling my world crumble around me as my world _literally_ crumbled around me, skeleton warriors clawing their way up from the dirt.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even move.  Finally, he took a deep, _shaky_ , breath.   “You don’t sound very happy, Nico.”  His voice broke almost imperceptibly on my name.  ‘ ** _Get yourself together._** ’ The voice hissed.  I planted my hands on the walls beside me, pressing my head even harder onto the glass.

“Who is it?”

I heard him stand and make his way toward me.  I automatically stiffened, but did not turn.  My eyes were still closed. 

Then I felt his hand rest between my shoulder blades.

I pretty much jumped out of my skin, a small yelp of surprise slipping out before I could stop it.  I spun around, pressing my back as far into the window as I could manage.  My eyes were wide, my heart hammering. 

He managed a small smile, his face bright with the moonlight coming in through the glass.  He opened his mouth, then closed it again, a small look of uncertainty crossing his face as he took in my expression.

“Who _is_ it?” I snapped finally, because _good gods, just get it over with_.

“You.” 


	2. A thing that was confusing but not in a bad way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating! Note it!!  
> Okay, now move along.

In the moments after that, everything sort of… slipped away from me.  The world hesitated, slowly wobbling on its axis.  The light in the room dimmed — _this is not happening_ _—_ and Percy said something but I couldn’t quite make it out and it was actually kind of hot in here— _oh gods oh gods_ _—_ I should talk to Leo about this (not _this_ but that) because he’d probably be able to fix it,

I wondered what Hazel was doing

— _what the fuck is going on_ _—_

Would she give me another haircut?

“Nico?”

In a moment, reality slammed into me like a particularly friendly freight train. 

I gave a choked gasp; my knees gave out from under me as I slid to the floor, my face scalding.  He could not be serious.  He _was_ not serious.  I couldn’t even make myself chance a look up at him to check.

He couldn’t be serious.

I mean, he was _straight_.  Right?  There were no signs. 

_There are always signs._

Even I had signs.

My breath was coming in shallow wheezes through my mouth, and my face had fallen into my hands because oh _gods_ how was I supposed to look up at him and wait for him to tell me it was all a joke.  My heart was clenched like a fist in my chest and it was banging rather uncomfortably on my sternum and _fuck_ _—_

“Nico, please say something.” 

His voice was incredibly strained, and when I peered through my fingers at his legs, he was stiff as a board.  “ _Please,_ Nico.”

“ _Oh._ ”

I did not just say that.  I did _not_ just _fucking say ‘oh’ again._

 _DAMN IT_.

“Shit, I− um, no wait, I’m sorry.  Fuck, I shouldn’t have told you that.  Oh gods, just− _fuck_ − forget this ever happened, okay?  Oh gods, Nico, I’m sorry, um, yeah, I’ll just… go.” His words tumbled out of his mouth, tripping over each other in their haste.   He was slowly moving back towards the door, looking at me like I was an animal he was afraid to spook.  “I should have known better, I mean, _gods_ , what am I doing, shit, okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.  Fuck, I’m so sorry _what was I thinking_ −“

“ _No_ , wait, no.  Hold on, one second, _wait!_ ”  I jumped to my feet, scrambling to cover the room in six long strides.  My face was still embarrassingly flushed, and my eyes were probably wild.  But all I could think that if this _wasn’t a joke…_   What was I even supposed to do? This was never even supposed to be in the cards for me.  I’d seriously chatted with Aphrodite about it, _she had said no_.

Fuck.

“Were you serious?”

The words broke through the deafening silence in the room like a sledgehammer to a wall.

“Of course I was serious. “ He wouldn’t look me in the eye.  “I know I look stupid, Nico, but I’m not… cruel.” Finally he ventured to look at me, and I managed to meet his eyes eventually and his expression was so open and so completely _wrecked_ _—_

“Nico, I’m in love with _you_.”

And suddenly it was like my world was being put back together again.  All of those pieces of me I had thrown out like garbage on a Friday morning fit back in right where they used to be.  I had never wanted this life, and I had spent my childhood _hating_ myself and feeling like I was a monster.  I was not a monster.  I had been messily rearranged and broken in more ways than you could count, _but I was not a monster._

And Percy _loved_ me. 

“Gods, _Percy_ —“

Suddenly I was falling towards him like rocks tumbling down a hillside, and my arms managed to reach around him before I crumpled to the ground in the most embarrassing way possible.  I felt him wrap me up, pull me closer and I was panting into his neck and trying to stop shaking but not really succeeding. 

Percy Jackson, this hero of a man, was holding me like I was the most precious thing in his world.   How was that even possible?  He muttered my name into my hair, and pressed his lips to my head. 

I tentatively lifted my face, barely managing to meet his bruising gaze for more than a moment, breath held, my hands flattening against his back.

Then I moved.

It was probably the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.

My lips met his gently, the barest of touches, waiting for him to pull away, to tell me no.  Instead he exhaled gently, one hand moving to the nape of my neck, and bringing me in closer. 

I felt an absurd sense of giddiness,

_He had been holding his breath too._

I smiled against his mouth, because honestly, I had _no_ idea what I was doing, but right now my dreams were coming true.

I pressed myself against him, hesitantly slanting my lips against his.  The feeling of someone else’s mouth on mine was strange, but definitely not unpleasant.  I just had no idea what to do.

 Shit.

Thankfully, I was quickly taken out of the driver’s seat.  Percy ran his tongue across the seam of my lips, and I yanked them open with a surprised gasp.  He immediately slid his tongue across mine, delicately, testing.  I panted softly in to his mouth, I mean really.  _Gods._

I timidly began to participate, noting all sorts of random things in my scattered state.  He was pressed almost completely against me, and moonlight was turning the inside of my eyelids red, and he tasted like salt on skin after a walk on the beach, and his skin felt like velvet over stone, and that was pretty much undeniably hot.   His tongue was thick and warm, gently making its way through my mouth, coaxing and stroking, lighting up nerves like live wires.

I slowly became more confident, gently tugging at his lower lip.  I pulled away, coming back deeper and smoother.  He returned the favor, nipping at my lower lip and then languorously dragging his tongue across the flesh to sooth it.  A low ache started throbbing in my chest and lower stomach, _he was so warm_.  He dragged the one hand that rested near my shoulders down, nails scraping through the fabric, landing just at the small of my back.  I hissed, arching into him, pressing our hipbones into one another.

A small rumble escaped him from deep in his chest; I felt it before I heard it.  His kisses became more fervent; a hand knotted in my hair and _Jesus_ — I felt like I could safely use his name in vain at least—that felt nice.  I gave a rather embarrassing whimper, suddenly feeling that he was too close but couldn’t be farther away.  I wanted to climb into his skin, sink into him like a stone in a lake.

His lips left mine, and my mouth felt surprisingly cold for a moment before his lips latched on to the dip under my jaw.  “ _Fuck_.” I breathed, and he froze; so did I.  Oh gods, what did I do? Everything had been going so well, if I had messed this up—

“Do that again.”

What?

His voice was rough, and had transformed into a deep baritone.  “ _Say it again._ ”

I knotted my fingers in his hair, and jerked his head up so he was looking straight in my eyes.  I leaned forward, just slightly, so my lips barely rested on his; I could feel him panting into my mouth.  My eyes were hooded, my breath shaky.  His irises were barely even green anymore, long since having been consumed by the blackness of the pupil. 

 _“Fuck._ ”

The helpless groan he let loose was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever heard.

He buried his face in my neck, biting and sucking and licking his way down to my Adams apple and collar bones.  His fingers skated up underneath my shirt, and I shivered at the contact.  He panted into my chest.

“Good?”

“ _Good_.” I moaned, tilting my hips forward.  What the fuck? Was that me? I sounded like a pornstar, _gods_.  Who had said he wasn’t good at this kind of stuff again?

“Gods, Nico, you sound…” he choked, dragging his teeth across the column of my throat.  “Fucking delicious.”

 _Holy shit._ That was definitely _not_ what I had been expecting.  Suddenly there was a certain clenching in my lower stomach that was making my knees lock and my thighs quiver.  I may or may not have keened.

Then, without any warning, he stood up, and deftly hiked my legs up around his waist.  I gave a small gasp.  “Percy—?” I began, but the rest of the question was lost as I was slammed against the wall.  The air seemed to vibrate.  He continued his ministrations with an incredible amount of ferocity, his hands making their way up my thighs with a delectable slowness, finally resting precariously low on my hips. 

I felt my ‘ _special friend_ ’ downstairs waking up; and the constant pressure of his stomach against me had me thunking my head back into the wall.

 ‘How far were we going with this?’ You might ask, and honestly? I had no idea. 

“I have wanted this—“ a slow scratch of nails down my bare ribs, “for—“ an open mouthed kiss on my upper sternum, “ _so long_.”   I yanked his head back to look at me once more, a deadly smile on my lips.

“I’ve _definitely_ got you beat on that.”  Then I leaned down, kissing him hungrily, lips learning his with lethal precision, hips gently rolling. 

He made a strangled half groan when I finally shifted low enough as to where I was pressed almost directly into his hips, and they gave a small jerk.  He was murmuring things against my skin as he spun me away from the wall, slowly trudging to the bed a few feet away before dropping me on the covers.

As I looked up at him, I could honestly say I had never been more turned on in my life.  He towered over me, hair mussed and lips red and swollen.  Then, with predatorily smooth movements, he climbed on top of me.  He was practically straddling me, for gods’ sakes.  He sat up, so he really _was_ straddling me, —and gods it felt good— and stripped off his shirt.  I watched in a reverent fascination as the muscles in his stomach rippled and stretched, lightly running my fingers across them.  He shuddered.  _Fuck._

The room seemed to pulse along with our heartbeats.

He leaned over and began working at my neck again, and I curved into him, pressing my hardness against his.  I gave a hitching laugh at the thought that _I_ would be able to give Percy Jackson an erection.  Gods, what a thought. 

That he would want me enough.

“What’s so funny?” He panted.

I beamed at him, one of my first real smiles in however long.  “I think I pretty much really love you.”

His returned smile was blinding, the green of his eyes glinting dully in the light.  He slowly crawled backwards, giving me just barely enough space to sit and leisurely peel off my shirt.  I allowed myself to give an absurd grin at the way his eyes widened, and the noise that may have been the sound of him choking on his own drool.

His eyes raked over my naked chest, noting the scars absently.  My blood rushed in my ears, and my hands quivered slightly by my sides. 

Nobody had ever seen me like this before.  The one who has hasn’t said anything yet.

Five seconds.

Six seconds.

 Just as I gave up and began to cross my arms over my chest, he caught my wrists.  He stared at me in wonder. 

“Nico, I−I mean, you−”    he took a deep breath “ _wow_.”

That was all he said.  That was all he needed to say.

Because then I was lying on my back and he was tucked beneath my legs and there was some awkward scrambling and quiet chuckles as we tried to get our pants down our legs.  The desire was a torch inside of me, with a mouth full of jagged teeth and a yearning heart.  His fingers made trails of fire along my skin, where they would dig in or where he would gasp or curse against me. 

He ground against me, a long, slow, pull of his body that had me crying out and trembling.  He supported his weight on shaking hands, arms on either side of me.  His breath scorching and damp against my neck, I wrapped my ankles at the small of his back, desperate for _something_ and I wasn’t even sure what it was. I whimpered helplessly; pushed up on him as I pulled him down, grabbing his ass in my hands for leverage, and managed to roll my hips just _so_.

 _“_ F−fuck, _Nico_ ,” He cursed into my mouth, panting and dropping down onto his forearms.  I was gasping for breath myself, pleasure sparking and fizzing through my veins.  I was a live wire.  “More,” I groaned, tugging at his hair.

He smirked, pulling his hips up daintily from our rather intimate engagement.  It was also a very fine way to show off his rear.  “Ask me nicely.”

I glared at him in disbelief, he could barely speak, and he was making me beg?  “Please.” I growled.  He smirked, and flipped us over, his skin was glazed golden with sweat, his hair sticking damply to his forehead.  His eyes were nearly black.  _Gods._  

I carefully tested out my new position, sitting up straight and _dragging_ my erection across his.  He gave a strangled gasp, grabbing my hips in a bruising grip.  He tried to find some more friction, bowing his body beneath mine.  I deftly pulled away before he could get anywhere with that idea.  “Hey,” I murmured in a mock warning tone, “ask me nicely.”

His eyes were blazing, his expression smoldering.  “Please, Nico,” he said between his closed teeth.  I went one step further, and palmed him though his boxers.  The noise he made is going into my vault of things to think of when alone, and I wouldn’t be able to describe it even if I tried.

I was standing at a cliff, trembling.

Then it’s his turn to pull me down onto him, to lock his ankles around my back and press into me with frankly astounding strength, biting into my shoulder and rubbing us together, pulling at my hair.  I cried out, and finally tumbled over.  The world exploded into kaleidoscope colors, and pleasure wracked over me like a tsunami.  I must have blacked out for a small moment, because I had nearly collapsed on Percy when I came to.  He was a panting, quaking mess beneath me, and gods if he wasn’t the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen. 

I managed to roll off of him, noting with _extremely_ great relief that I was not the only one who had, well, tumbled off of a certain precipice. 

The aftershocks still rattled through me, euphoria bubbling in my blood.  I looked at him, totally ravaged, his eyes were half closed, his mouth hanging gently open in a dopey smile.  The air was thick and hot.  I turned on my side, running a hand through his hair.  He started, then gave a blinding smile, moving to face me. 

“This visit turned out _much_ better than expected.” He slurred, tossing a sheet over us.  I would go clean up soon, but for now I was too noodle limbed to do anything but grin dumbly at him.

I ran my hand through his hair, ruffling it even further. (Which, honestly, had seemed impossible.)

“I never thought I could have this.” I admitted quietly, not looking at him.

“I’m full of surprises.” He smirked, stretching lethargically.  “So are you, apparently.” He added, giving me a pointed look.

I gave a short huff of laughter.  “Well, thank you.” I drawled, “I’ve had loads of practice.”

  I wasn’t able to control my wave of giggles that accompanied the look on his face.  He glared at me; wrapping me up in his arms and pulling me close once more.  I buried my face into his chest. 

If you told me this was where I’d be an hour ago, in the arms of Percy Jackson post-coitus,  I probably would have laughed and then stabbed you in the face.

“What do we do now?” I murmured, chancing a look into his eyes.

He scooted down—bless him— so that our foreheads rested against each other.  He tucked a longer strand of hair behind my ear, giving me a gentle peck on the cheek.

“I want to be with you, Nico.  Even if the world ends tomorrow, or if we survive it and live to be crotchety old guys throwing eggs at hooligans,” He peppered kisses across my face until I was a mess of laughter and flushed cheeks.  “I want to be with you.” He became serious suddenly, staring at me solemnly.  “Is that okay?”

I put my face in my hands, and when he pried them away, I was bright red and there might have been a bit of liquid in my eyes.  I don’t know where it came from. 

Just kidding.

“What do you say?” He whispered against my mouth.

“I—you—“ I took a shaky breath.  “I have never wanted anything more, in the _whole_ my existence.  Even that weird period in the Lotus Hotel. Well—  You know what I mean.  So yes.  Most definitely.  _Definitely._ ” 

Percy beamed so bright he would have blinded the world had they been watching, but instead it was only me.  In that moment, he was mine and I was his, and I did not have to share him with any of the world’s monsters. 

Percy Jackson loved me.

“I really love you. “ I muttered into his neck, wrapping my arms around him.

I felt him smile into my shoulder. 

“Ditto.”

That was all we needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow. Okay, you can all hit me, I'm the worst, I'm so sorry. I was busy! I hope this chapter helped make up for it :)  
> I just lost my fanfiction virginity!  
> (Adding this a while after the original posting of this chapter, this is the end! Thanks to all who read and enjoyed!)


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